


exile

by tallestgirlonearth



Series: I was only for your very space [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Gen, Inspired by Music, Introspection, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27937417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallestgirlonearth/pseuds/tallestgirlonearth
Summary: It wasn’t supposed to be like that.Rafael wasn’t supposed to lose himself so much that the only way out was tearing his old life to shreds. Sonny wasn’t supposed to finally get where he wanted to be only to find himself utterly alone, no friend to turn to and his former coworkers either bemused by or actively dismissive about his choices.Rafael seems fine again, a sparkle in his eyes and a spring in his step.Sonny is the one who’s sitting here, heart pounding, thoughts running a mile a minute. Hurting, and not even knowing over what.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Series: I was only for your very space [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147100
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	exile

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, Barisi fandom!
> 
> I’m a newbie and this is my first humble contribution to this wonderful pairing. As you can imagine, I completely lost it at the Season 22 promo and just had to do something with it – I've tagged this post-canon bc until "Sightless in a Savage Land" airs it technically is. I hope I did the characters justice!
> 
> Inspired by [“exile”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5SQIECedTY) by Taylor Swift & Bon Iver, bc I just happened to listen to it on repeat and it hit me right in the feels. 
> 
> Kudos or even a comment would mean the world to me :)

**exile**

The moment the door to his office has closed, Sonny slumps in his chair, head falling into his arms.

He can’t believe this is happening.

He can’t believe that ten minutes ago, Rafael Barba waltzed into his office, sans three-piece-suit and tie, but with a beard and an air of confidence that had been missing for so long, and calmly informed him that he was opposing counsel on SVU’s latest case. Sonny was so stunned that all he could say was,

“You’re going for insanity?”

He didn’t ask any of the question that lay heavy on his tongue, made his stomach twist, his eyes prickle, his heart burn.

_Why did you take this case?_

_When did you come back?_

_Why did you leave?_

A ragged sigh escapes him and he runs his hand through his hair agitatedly. Sonny knows that some of these questions have easy answers, at least on the surface. Liv passed on greetings from Barba every once in a while, casually mentioning that he was dealing with election fraud in Iowa, and the relocation of a former Manhattanite to the boondocks produced many a laugh from Fin. The squad never really discussed the change of ADA, swamped with cases as always, but sometimes a brief remark brought the underlying issue to light – it was clear that Barba couldn’t continue like before, something had to change, but even Rollins was dissatisfied that the man just up and left.

As for Sonny?

On the surface of things, Barba and him were never more than colleagues, either amicable or uneasy co-workers, depending on the situation. There was potential there for a friendship, for something that went beyond the confines of the precinct or the courthouse.

None of this explains why Sonny felt left out, high and dry, when Barba left. Why he still feels unmoored, floundering, even though months have passed and he’s slowly gotten his feet under as an ADA. Hell, he was even upgraded to a single office, and didn’t have to work from the pool anymore. 

_Why didn’t you say goodbye and why didn’t you let me know about anything that was going on in your head, why didn’t you seek for a way out other than burning all bridges, why didn’t you just say something, anything?_

Sonny knows that he is at least partially responsible for a breakdown in communication between them, somewhere along the line between Dodds’ funeral and his interview at the Brooklyn DA’s office.

The funeral, God. What a horrible day, and the weeks before hadn’t been much better. The thought of anyone threatening their ADA’s life had made fear swoop low in Sonny’s stomach, prompting him to throw himself into the case completely, recklessly, without spending too much time thinking about why exactly it hit so close to home for him. At the wake, he’d spent hours at the bar, sitting with Barba, deep in conversation, until people began to leave and Sonny realised that he’d completely forgotten time and place. Had forgotten because he had enjoyed Barba’s presence. In fact, those hours had been the best time he’d had for a while and, God, Sonny felt so _guilty_.

He’d withdrawn after that, using his caseload and the void left behind by Dodds’ passing as an excuse not to make the switch to ADA. Channeling his guilt into restless energy, into chasing after perps and leads, snapping at anyone and everyone who seemed to be in his way. Snapping at Barba for being a voice of reason, for pointing out that a ruling in Delaware wasn’t applicable in the state of New York. 

They’d talked less afterwards. Gone were the humorous insults, the well-aimed barbs that sometimes seemed close to flirting and could brighten any day. Replaced instead by a soulless professionalism and an avoidance of any topic that could be seen as even vaguely personal.

Sonny had wanted to distance himself from Barba to alleviate his guilt, but it hadn’t helped. At all.

And then...

Then, things had gotten better. Whether it was because time healed all grievances or just because the nature of working Special Victims meant perpetually placing other people’s problems above your own, Sonny and Barba had started to talk to each other, rather than at each other. Sonny felt encouraged enough to offer his customary unwanted legal insight, and Barba had been less guarded in his responses. It had almost been like old times.

Nowadays, Sonny is aware of the never-ending pressure on even the most junior ADA’s. The anxiousness, the weight on his shoulder led him to throw up more than once, and he can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for Barba, who prosecuted the big fish and was constantly under scrutiny by coworkers and public alike. Had he been this aware only months ago, he would have known what he thought was an upswing in fortune was just the calm before the storm.

Barba hadn’t been softening towards him. The man was just plain exhausted, lacking spark in court and questioning the purpose of his work to the point of forcing a mistrial. There was no passion anymore, no joy, and thinking back to their last cases as detective and ADA makes Sonny feel a different kind of guilt. An SVU detective was expected to be emphatic, and yet he hadn’t acknowledged that his own co-worker was struggling. Sonny usually took it upon himself to care: he had always been the one looking out for the others on the squad, lending an open ear, preparing a home-cooked meal. But when it came to Rafael, he somehow hadn’t done anything.

He’s had to live with that crippling disappointment in himself ever since the Householder trial, when it became clear just how deep the pit was that Rafael had fallen into.

And now here they are.

They’re going to face each other in court, on opposing sides.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Rafael wasn’t supposed to lose himself so much that the only way out was tearing his old life to shreds. Sonny wasn’t supposed to finally get where he wanted to be only to find himself utterly alone, no friend to turn to and his former coworkers either bemused by or actively dismissive about his choices.

Rafael seems fine again, a sparkle in his eyes and a spring in his step.

Sonny is the one who’s sitting here, heart pounding, thoughts running a mile a minute. Hurting, and not even knowing over what.

_Why did you leave me?_

The question is heavy on Sonny’s tongue, and surely it will burst out soon, because this is what it all comes down to. It comes down to Rafael and him, to his feelings in relation to Rafael, to his hurt in relation to Rafael’s departure.

Sonny is taking this personally.

The silent admission makes him scoff at himself, because – objectively – it’s ridiculous.

They were coworkers.

He doesn’t know whether he has any right at all to take this personally, but he can’t let it go. He doesn’t know whether he misread the signs but there was potential. Potential for them to be more than colleagues, more than friends. It was there in every witty repartee, in the way Sonny strived to be seen as Rafael’s equal, in the way Rafael actually accepted him as an equal, sitting side by side at the prosecution bench.

Sonny’s been missing this presence for so long.

The disturbance had first appeared when he’d taken the bar and begun to speak about legal matters with more confidence but it’s never been more apparent than now. The squad is no longer _his_ squad, he’s no longer a part, just a tangent. Rollins is furious at him for leaving. Rafael had been the only one to recognise the future lawyer in him, from the first “booyah, Fordham Law” on.

And without Rafael, who can Sonny turn to, now that he’s no longer “Carisi”, but “Counselor?”

He wants Barba back, plain and simple. He knows he could have made a friendly overture, open up a line of conversation just now, when the man was standing right in front of him. But how can he say anything when he doesn’t even know who they are to each other anymore?

_You're not my homeland anymore_  
_So what am I defending now?_


End file.
